Glitter in the Gutter
by GothicBlackStar
Summary: My name is Sakuya Le Bel Shirogane. My father has sent me away to attend at this College for the next two years while I study to someday surpass him and take over the family business, but surely...there's been a mistake, right? Why is there graffiti on the walls? Does this place have a janitor? And what's with all these...these, these- these mongrels! Modern!AU / human!forms


Author's Notes

-so i had this document labelled as _'thing'_ in my untouched files collecting dust in my laptop and i decided to go over it and touch it up a little because there could be potential and i felt like posting it. i bought holidaystar a couple of days ago and just all of these bird feels are returning. but yeah, here's a thing that could be a bigger thing. a modern!au, if you please. whatever it is, imagine them in their human/gijinka forms. that much is probably obvious anyway but i figured i should mention it. the possibility of updates for now is mild since i'm finishing a different fic, but i hope you at least enjoy this much !

Enjoy and R&R!

Disclaimer: I don't own Hatoful Boyfriend.

* * *

Father had specifically given instructions worthy of any class to be able to decipher. If there were some hidden message beneath the numerous words the elder man had written over the crumpled piece of paper, Sakuya could not seem to find them. The seventeen year old was struck dumb with the unruly sight he had been given in his first few hours standing in front of his _supposedly_ new College. As far as he and his family was concerned, this ditched down piece of idle mockery was ruled as one of the most luxurious institutes in all the country.

 _How ridiculous was that?!_

As much as he would have liked to scream out just that, he was reminded of his own dignity and sucked down the bubbling urges rising in his chest. Knuckles had turned white from the grip he had been making between the flesh of his palms and the expensive leather that adorned his bags. There was no way he would torture himself with the task of lugging his belongings all the way back down the hill he had spent at least an hour hiking up. His sleek, polished shoes were not made for such a climb! Especially not twice the distance in one day.

All he could seem to do was stare up at the building that towered over him. It almost frightened him with the way it practically tilted. The architecture was poor and only expressed the odd one or two attempts at actually looking refined and splendid; almost as if someone had mapped out magnificent details and spiralled cement, only to find out the cost of creating such a piece would cost millions so they gave up altogether and slapped on flat stone upon stone until it formed into something that could pass off as a College building.

The occupants hardly looked any better with their pulled up hoods and deadly expressions. The noble wondered if this was perhaps what a prison may feel like. The suspense, the mystery, all wrapped up in a cheap campus and poorly-looking clothes slung onto suspicious students with their hands stuffed deep into their pockets. And why should their pockets be so deep? For hiding drugs, probably. At least that was what Sakuya assumed upon first glance.

It was only after the third or forth death glare he received that he decided to venture on inside and hope the company and inner setting was at least somehow more appealing. But no, it was nothing of the sorts. The moment his raincoat had brushed past the slimy, chipped door frame that led to reception, he was presented with a mould-stained, damp and dreary environment. There was absurd graffiti all over the walls that had been covered over with only a single coat of paint, granting absolutely no favours in trying to hide the offensive message the artist had hoped to give.

Visibly cringing, Sakuya reluctantly made his way over to the reception desk to where a rather chubby woman sat on the other side with a phone in one hand and a half-eaten apple in the other. The surface of her desk was practically overflowing with papers and forms, some that even dated back to last year's reports and club opportunities. Clearly some students had failed to achieve certain goals because of one woman's laziness.

"What?" When the ignorant woman spoke, Sakuya was baffled by the course tone of voice and the thick stench that followed.

To save choking there and then, Sakuya stepped backwards and turned his head away. "I...I am in need of directions to my dorm!" A little more harsher than intended, he spoke.

"Name?" Without lifting a muscle or batting an eye, the receptionist grunted and slid the end of her thumb across the phone in her hand.

"Shirogane. Sakuya Le Bel Shirogane." Came the reply. There was no false pride when Sakuya announced his name. It was a very proud thing, indeed! One which he would always be grateful for. It set him higher than these mongrels that grovelled at his feet. He was unlike them, and with such a name as his, no-one needed to be told twice that he was of nobility or at least high class.

"Be right back." The overweighted woman sighed and dropped her phone down upon the many piles of papers stacked high around her. She took a chunk from the half-eaten apple, which had already turned a rather nasty brown colour, and tossed it away into the nearest bin just as she disappeared from sight through the back door.

Sakuya could not recall how long the woman had been gone for before he felt his tired legs begin to scream for their rest. He was not exactly fit. The only reason he had such a slim physique was thanks to the small, well-balanced meals he had been fed throughout the years. The walk from the bus stop and up the hill to this place had worn him down greatly and he wished for nothing more than to settle into this place and take a long, well needed shower.

When the receptionist arrived, Sakuya could not have been more grateful for the timing. Already a group of young men around his age had passed by, catcalling and whispering preposterous things like _'pretty boy'_ and _'rich prick'_ as they made their way to their own destinations. Sakuya would have lost his temper if it had not been for the meaty pair of fingers to swat at his vision with a string of keys tied to a rotting piece of what seemed to be string.

"Room thirteen. Off with you." The receptionist grunted and dropped herself down onto her chair.

Supposing his existence had been erased from the woman's mind the moment she returned to her phone, Sakuya pivoted and hurriedly made his way back outside to head for the dorms. He hated to seem cowardly as to run away from the things that seemed to be troubling him, but in all fairness he could see no realistic logic behind sticking back there and speaking aloud to a group of certain individuals that could very well beat him to the bone.

And a scuffed up face was the last thing he wanted on the first day.

The dorms block was no different to the main building. There was still obscene graffiti and mouldy walls. The hall had been lined with a long green carpet that had gained various stains and tears throughout the years of wear and tear. The once, plush essence of said carpet now crunched beneath the rick soles of Sakuya's shoes and the noble felt his stomach clench.

Only sheer relief could be expressed when he _finally_ arrived at his destination. Nimble fingers worked on getting the door open and the young man practically threw himself inside the confined space of his new room. It appeared his room-mate had already made themselves at home and had chosen to take the lower half of the rickety-looking bunk in the corner. The sight was displeasing to say the least but the room was fairly descent. He felt confident enough to set his bags down without fear of their delicate surfaces gaining stains once he was inside and he relished a long, much needed sigh.

The heels of his shoes tapped against the hollow floorboards and he stood in front of the single window across from the door. His blue eyes stared downward towards the criminals and thieving gangstas that littered the campus. A painful surge swirled in his stomach and he bumped his head against the glass window, muttering a single sentence.

"Why did you send me here, father...?"


End file.
